Frisk was So tired
by SmileyTrashBag
Summary: So they kept mutilating themselves [(WARNING: Mutilation. Gore. Self Harm. Blood. Suicide)]


Frisk was very, _very_ tired. This will be their 148th run not counting the genocide runs and honestly. It was getting very tiring.

Even killing themselves would not stop the cycle.

It was excruciating. They could not fulfill their little hopeful little dream that consisted of them dying in the mountains. Though maybe they could, but it would not be permanent which was _unfortunate_ for them.

As such. They had started their oh so little hobby which was satisfying and if it weren't for the thing called desperation they would have been disgusted and even horrified of their masochistic pleasures, but alas as they were not in their right minds this hobby continued.

Hobby as in mutilating their body and loading and then mutilating, loading, mutilating and so on and on until it got boring and the pain disappeared for a while.

Then they would be on their merry little ways pretending that the mutilating never happened. At least it was some of the part true as they were not in the same timeline...-

Oh, they were starting again.~

o-o-o-o-o

They had a tight grip on the handle ensuring that they would not lose their grip on it when they would make slashes against skin and maybe even stab some organs. They would have to do it quick or sadly they wouldn't have enough time to mutilate other parts fast enough.

They wanted to make a painting of their skin and body. Of course they tried not to think of it as an excuse, though they would know deep deep down that he just wanted to kill themselves over and over. It was like their other part on a killing spree, but instead of killing others it would be a suicide spree. So much glee and so much _sadistic_ or in this case _masochistic_ feelings over running all over their nerves.

It was truly _amazing._

As they slightly moved their knife they only let it touch lightly letting the slight shivers of pleasure and the pain to come and let the feeling sink in until they started painting their canvas. Oh so white so easily dirtied with the red inside their skin and veins.

Getting quickly bored of the light touches of the knife. They put the tip of the knife to their tights and dragged the knife letting it travel harshly over their kneecap and to their foot. Their only reaction seemed to be biting their smiling lips and slight shivers of pain and pleasure. It wasn't until that their reached to their toe did they move to the other leg and started doing the same, but more quickly as they knew that they could die of blood loss from the big but not so deep wound.

As they were done they started mutilating their arms doing light but big cuts in their arms. Doing the same thing with their arm like their leg. It almost looked like the skin could pop out from their bone and flesh and it was exciting them very much so. It looked like a cut sausage.

Ah... _Dizzy_. They were starting to feel dizzy, which was not a good sign with how much of a little progress they have made. So they did the other arm sloppily by now shivering erratically and crying with tears dripping down their face, though still that even present smile on their lips as if they were very happy about this or more likely they _were_ happy, definitely with so much as no hesitation on the answer.

As they were done with the cuts on their arms they started to do swallow cuts on their stomach while thinking with their more and more numb mind about what would they want to finish this off with.

Of course the answer was very simple and painful which was exciting them to the core.

They took their knife off from cutting their stomach to their left eye and purging it inside with no hesitation.

That had them crying in pain. Silent screams muffled by biting their lips and tearing some of the skin off of it. They had to finish themselves off before they passed out.

They then took the knife and pierced their vocal cords and thus silencing them even further. Though it seemed to result in a bloody waterfall from their throat.

They seemed to go limp. Their dead eyes not closing, blood pouring out while the mind flew to the screen of ''Continue'' or ''Reset.''

 **-_-_-_-_-_-_- Reset** **-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-**

 _Blood gurgling out like a waterfall. Eyeball out of the eyesocket. Bloody screams. Red painting snow, tiles, grass, flowers. Guts spilling out. Tears of frustration and hate. Every cut. Every bloody drop. Everything painful that oh felt good. Frisk hated feeling good. They didn't deserve it. They should just die numb. Guts and hatred spilling out in every drop. Hairs ripped out. Spit on. Ripped apart. Ripping nails off. Everything. Oh. They. Deserved. NOTHING._

They should give up. They should not feel this DETERMINED over such things like these. They should _die._

Ah. They were talking nonsense again. They were not making sense. What were they _talking about_. What was happening to _them_. Why didn't they _die?!_ Why did fate do this to them?! Please just let them _die_ in _pieces!_

And thus. They kept mutilating themselves each reset. Again, again, again, again, again and again.

They were filled with _DETERMINATION_

 **-_-_-_-_-_-_- END** **-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-**

 **-o-**

 **-o-**

Short one shot. Just wanted to get this idea from my head ;)


End file.
